Please, Don't Be Too Late
by TwistedTeaCakes
Summary: Every year, Italy waits for his lost love he has been told is dead to return. Still, maybe his return isn't how he expected. Will he accept him back, or will things go wrong?
1. Why now?

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia in any way! **

**This may occasionally change point of view, but it's not that dramatic.**

Italy had skipped training that morning, and had locked himself away in his room, leaving a sticky note on his bedroom door, saying he didn't feel well and had a headache and to not come in. He knew it probably wouldn't work, but he hoped it would work just for a bit. It was a very specific date, and as the hours ticked on, he could only stare miserably at the clock, wishing today would be different somehow. It had been hundreds of years, yet the memory of his first love still haunted his mind. He kept waiting every year for him to return, even though he knew it would probably never happen and he had been told by France he'd never return as a child. Still, a part of him kept on hoping, each year he'd get depressed and just say he had to go do something for his boss, or fall ill briefly to avoid being around people for a bit. Sometimes he'd just go away for two days, and return laughing and happy as ever, even though it was a mask.

He hadn't felt truly happy in a long time, his obliviousness and cheery attitude all just one big facade he had kept up ever since that fateful day, to prove he was okay and protect everyone. He was protective of those he cared about, worried they too would disappear one day, and he hid away to avoid doing anything to risk slipping up or making them sad too. His phone rested by his pillow, along with a sketchbook he held, inside drawings of the same scenes and people, mostly Holy Rome, bunnies, and fields. Some were darker though, but he'd end up crying again and closing the book. He was starting to actually develop a slight headache from all his quiet sobbing, and the fact he hadn't been eating correctly again. He just closed his eyes again, hoping he could sleep before someone came around.

The sound of knocking almost five minutes later woke him up, and he just rubbed his eyes hoping he looked a bit more composed and his eyes were no longer red. "Si?" he called back, yawning slightly.

"Italy? Can you just open the door? Bitte?" the German called, trying to keep his voice as gentle as possible, knowing the other nation was upset, and knowing he could sound pretty angry most of the time. He'd noticed it was the same time every year, and he knew it wasn't healthy for him to be holing himself up like this every year. He had his suspicions, but he was determined to get down to the bottom of things and make sure his friend would be alright.

The door opened, revealing a rather dark room since all the curtains were mostly drawn, letting in the minimal light to see since he'd used the bedside lamp to draw. "Ciao Germany~" he said, keeping his voice cheerful as usual, though it didn't sound as cheerful as usual, though he decided to blame it on the headache if asked. "Is.. it about training?" he asked, stepping aside to let him in, then closing the door behind him.

Germany furrowed his eyebrows at the greeting, noticing the sadness in it, a wave of guilt crashing into him, but he stayed stoic. "Hallo, and no, don't worry it's not about the training." he reassured, noting how dark the room was compared to the fact he tended to at least leave some light source. Italy inwardly swore at the darkness of the room when he caught him looking around. "I know it's a bit dark, but my headache was really bad so I didn't want to make it worse with light." he said and shrugged, just sitting back down on the bed, but avoiding eye contact. It had always been harder to look at him on this day, seeing as they beared a huge similarity. Still, he was trying to keep up his facade, yet allowed a little to slip under the pretense of a headache.

"I know you don't have a headache." Germany said sternly. _'So much for that excuse.' _Italy thought, but just tried to play it off. "Your eyes are red from _crying _and your reactions are signs of.. Depression." he said, his eyes holding concern.

He didn't realize it, but he flinched slightly at the fact he'd noticed and shifted on his feet slightly. "No, it's nothing like that~ My head was just hurting really bad and you know I don't deal with pain well." he tried again as an excuse. _'Damn it.. I've been getting away with this for years, and he has to notice?!' _he thought in irrittation, but also a bit saddened more by the idea of someone knowing.

"You start acting strange around this time _every year. _What is wrong with you?" he asked.

"Nothing!" Italy protested.  
"You can't keep acting like this. Stop making excuses, I'm just trying to help you." he scolded, pointing a finger at the other.

Instinctively he took a step back at the scolding tone and finger pointing, a flash of guilt crossing his features and then quickly dissapearing. "It's.. just something from my past.. that I don't really want to talk about. It's hard enough thinking about it.. Mi dispiace." he apologized, an undercurrent of mourning in his voice and he clenched his jaw briefly.

".. Italy, come here." he motioned for the other to come to him, taking a step closer to the brunette. He had a feeling he was going to have to push the other to tell him what was wrong.

Unwanted tears threatened to spill and he took yet another step backwards, shaking his head again and trying to make his smile a bit more realistic. "Really, it's nothing. I'm fine, it'll all be okay again tomorrow, the day after at the latest. Really, it's okay." he reassured, since it was mostly true. He'd be able to fake his joy again once the day had passed, and he could get himself collected again.

"It's Holy Rome, isn't it." Germany stated more than asked, his blue eyes cast down towards the ground.

"H-How do.. y-you know about him?" he asked quietly, his honey eyes widening in surprise, looking over him quickly, unable to come up with another exuse.

Germany remained silent for a moment. "Because," his voice held such a deep and distressed tone, it was obvious that this subject was difficult. "I waited for you to notice." he said when he finally met his eyes, his own sky blue eyes glistening. Tears didn't dare to enter his eyes though, and his face remained stoic. He was a trained soldier, after all.

Italy on the other hand wasn't staying even half as composed, tears quickly filling his eyes and one rolling down his cheek. "Y-You.. You're him?! And you never told me?!" he asked his voice shaking slightly, his expression and voice both expressing the anger, joy and pain he was feeling all at once. He didn't even notice another tear was escaping.

"Italy, I-" Germany cut himself off, feeling utterly hopeless in this situation. He didn't know what to do, and instead decided to approach him slowly and carefully, not wanting to upset him any more than he was, reaching out for him with slow and timid hands.

Italys eyes flashed to meet his hand, and he just tensed taking yet another step back. His mind was running far too quickly for him to really react at this point. _He lied to me! He never told me any of this, never even acknowledged we may have known eachother before. He didn't even try! _he thought angrily. "Why?" was all he asked, everything in that one simple word, his eyes moving to meet his again. The tears were slowing, as he fought to gain back the composure he so desperately clung to, but it was harder now than he could remember.

"Because," Germany paused to wrap his arms around the Italian, trying to convey his apology in the strong hold. "After not coming back for so long, and after dissapearing like that.. I knew you would hate me." his voice breaking a bit, hinting at his emotions just enough to convey what he needed to. "When I saw you again, I thought you didn't remember me. That hurt, a lot.. I thought by telling you, you wouldn't want to still be with me, or train, or associate at all. I thought you'd leave. I didn't want to be your enemy." he said, loosening his grip.

Despite the fact he could tell his apology was true, he couldn't shake the anger that was gripping at him. "I-I told you I would _wait!_ No matter how long it took, I told you I would wait! That means I wouldn't hate you if you took longer than expected! They told me you were _dead! _I had to deal with that news, but in the end I couldn't believe it. I kept _waiting _and waiting, years passed and I still waited like the idiot I was!" his voice was steadily rising in volume, and he was shaking slightly, a part of him wanting to collapse in his hold and pretend he wasn't angry about all of this, but another part of him feeling angry and betrayed for never being told the truth.  
"Italy I-" Germany tried to speak again but was quickly cut off.  
"No! It's _my _turn to speak! You sat back.. for how long?! How long did you wait to tell me this. How long did you just watch me hole myself up to avoid having to be around anyone?" he asked, his eyes angry and tearless now. "You let me _suffer _all alone! I remembered alright. Do you realize how badly it _hurt _to see someone who looked exactly like I would expect an older you to look, but not even seeming to act like we'd ever met before?! I stayed though, even when you got angry, through everything I stayed!" he yelled, his fists clenched at his sides as if resisting the urge to punch him in his rage.

Germany looked taken aback by the outburst, even though he had expected it. Rather than anger, immense pain passed through his features and he took a deep steadying breath. "Italy, I thought you were happy without me." he began trying to compromise, watching his body language for any signs of something. He knew it was his fault, and call it selfish, and it was, he had to know that Italy would be okay, even if it took a bit of time. "I know you're pissed.. just, try and understand me for a moment. Bitte." he pleaded.

"Why, why should I? Why should I _ever _listen to you again? Do you really think I was happy? Ever since they said you'd died, I just kept waiting for you to prove them wrong. I wasn't happy though, I just kept up this stupid facade to keep everyone happy. To keep them with me." his voice shook barely at the end, but was otherwise eerily calm, and he just took another step away. A sick part of him noticed the pain in his features and enjoyed it, wanting him to feel the same pain he'd been living with for so long. "But yes.. I was happier than I am right now. I thought if you came back, you'd at least tell me. I never thought you'd hide it from me. So I'm going to say this, and don't make me angrier.. Get. Out!" his voice rose at the command, and he looked even angrier. The anger was draining him of his energy quickly though, but he wasn't about to hint to how much this was really wearing on him.

Germany continued to hold his ground, staying stoic as ever. "No. I know you're upset, and this is why I never told you. It's because it would cause this fight between us." he paused and held out a hand to him. "I didn't want to fight."

"Upset?! Upset.. upset doesn't even begin to cover how I feel right now!" he snapped, his eyes searching for something in case he had to threaten him to get him out of the room. "Get out. I may, or may not talk to you after this.. we'l see. It's better you do _not _piss me off any more right now!" he said, a slight growl to his tone near the end. If anyone else were to hear him, they would say this could never come from the bubbly Italian, no one ever saw him angry though, and that was a side that could challenge his brothers temper. "GO!" he yelled.  
"Italy.. No. You said you waited for me.. I'm here now, so why are you pushing me away like this?" he asked, though it wasn't really a question. He was watching him cautiously, observing every move. He didn't want to believe that he'd actually try to harm him, cosnidering the Italian seemed to hate conflict.

"You want to know something?" he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly. "It was stupid of me to wait if I knew this was how we'd reunite.. Maybe.. just maybe I could've moved on." he said, glaring still. His fists clenched again and before realizing he'd even moved, he took a swing at him. Before his hand could make any comtact with him, his fist was caught, making an eerie sound in the silent room. The Germans face remained blank. "I see.." he said, his grip tightening a bit more, trapping it there.

He squirmed slightly, slight panic briefly flashing in his eyes at suddenly being trapped. Still, he tried to prevent any emotion but anger from showing, and tried to free himself. "Let. Go." he commanded. Instead of listening, he was pulled tightly against Germany, his fist released and then his hand taken, entwining their fingers. "Fine.. I'll leave, again." he said, his tone eerily low.

"Then go. I need time to think and you're not helping. So let go, and go away." he grumbled, not wanting to give himself time to hesitate and tried to push him away.

Germany didn't let go for another moment, but eventually loosened his hold and stepped back. "Well then Italy, you know where to find me." he said, not bothering to hold back his tears anymore, even though the rest of his face remained stoic. He cleared his throat as Italy went and opened the door for him, pointing out, and exited with a small nod to him. Hard boots against the floor sounded down the hall. His weight was still there, but he felt empty, as if his body was now just a thing shell moving.

_**Review please if you want to see more. **_

_**Translations:**_

_**Bitte- Please**_

_**Mi Dispiace- My apologies or I'm sorry**_


	2. Memories

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia in any way! **

Italy headed down to the wine cellar once he was alone, deciding he needed something to help him sleep. It tended to help most of the time, so he saw no harm in going down and maybe polishing off a bottle or two at least until he was ready to go to sleep again and forget the days events. He opened the door to lead down into it, and flicked on the switch, lighting up the room with light from the twinkle lights that were wrapped around and through the racks, creating a simple light that wasn't too bright.

The room itself was pretty decently sized, with racks arranged for everyday, special occasions, and such. He grabbed one from the everyday section, and opened it after dusting it off with his hands. _I should remember to come down and clean this place up one day_ he thought as he started to drink from the bottle. He knew he'd never be able to go to sleep sober, even though his anger had ended up sapping all his energy, leaving him feeling stretched too thin and his mind running again.

~Flashback~

_A younger Italy watched the black cape disappear past slowly through the marble arch, following the army that would stay gone for years to fight. He hadn't known it that day of course, expecting him to return soon and be safe, but he'd stayed out until dusk, wishing he'd come back after just a few hours._  
_He ended up staying out until he fell asleep against the wall, leaning against it and sleeping standing up. Hungary found him when he was starting to slide down into a sitting position, waking him up. He was then taken inside for dinner, since she'd been looking for him, and then spent the time before bed listening to Austria playing the piano. Still, the entire time he found his mind wandering to Holy Rome, wondering if he was okay, if he was homesick, and if he missed him like he did. He ended up crying himself to sleep that night, not realizing how much he'd really cared, even though they'd admitted to loving each other, until he'd left._

_Years continued to pass and there was no news, he was reassured though that war took time, and that he'd return safely. He just smiled and nodded, even though after 100 years, he was getting extremely doubtful. They continued trying to reassure him, to which they'd receive a smile and agreement, not wanting to worry anyone with his own anxieties over the situation._

_It was now 189 years later, August 16, 1806, and he was out drawing in the same field they'd shared their first kiss in, letting himself go unguarded, not smiling as much, just looking more focused on his drawing than anything. That was, until he heard the sound of footsteps approaching. He immediately tensed and looked up, wondering who exactly was there. "Big Brother France, what are you doing here?" he asked, noticing the sad look. Immediately his own heart dropped, expecting bad news and he waited._

_".. Italia.. Your Holy Rome.. he is dead. He died in battle and was dissolved 10 days ago... I got his hat for you though.." he said, his voice sounding mournful, as he handed over the hat. "I'm so sorry.. I know how much he meant to you.." he apologized, kneeling down in front of him. His long blonde hair hung untied in his face, his blue eyes sad and apologetic as he reached out and pulled him into a hug._

_Italy was fighting back tears again, but they came quickly. 'He can't be.. he's lying. He's alive and he's coming back to me.. like he promised..' his mind screamed as he sobbed into his shoulder. However, as the minutes passed, and he received nothing but shushing and soothing words along with his back being rubbed, he realized it had to be true. The realization only caused him to cry harder, and he was eventually picked up by Hungary, despite the fact he was a little bigger than he was all those years ago. France slipped her a letter, detailing everything, not wanting to stress the Italian further. _

_After that day, he started to collect himself, realizing how his crying was affecting Austria and Hungary, though it was more Hungary as she was almost like a mother figure, and she worried for him deeply. It took a year, but he was able to fake a smile again, and eventually everything went back to normal as he started faking his joy and smiles again. It was better this way, he decided, to bring happiness to everyone else, even if he himself was miserable. After a while, everyone seemed to forget him, and thus, forget how much he'd meant to the Italian, so the questions grew farther and farther apart if he was alright, until ending all together. He didn't mind, glad for the lack of a reminder._

_He waited every year, busying himself, or just losing track of time when he could so he wouldn't have to remember the day again. Though, everything changed when he met a certain tall blonde German after being pretty much forced from his hiding place in the crate. A part of him had wished for death that day, hoping whoever was out there would shoot him to shut him up, even though it probably wouldn't work. _

_When he'd opened his eyes to see that face though, everything had changed. He suddenly had something to cling to for hope that he'd return, someone who looked so much like him. Sure, it hurt a lot to look at him some days, but other times, he was starting to feel close to the happiness he had before._

_Through wars, he made sure to defend him as best he could, even if it wasn't by much. He'd started growing much closer to him, that it almost felt traitorous to Holy Rome, and it made it that much worse, because he now had a constant reminder, and was unable to just ignore the day he left. Still, even after everything he stayed, not wanting to lose someone he cared about. _

_He remembered how pained he'd looked before leaving after confessing everything, and his own chest ached dearly, wishing he could just forget._

"It's funny.. isn't it.." he murmured to himself as he was polishing off the seventh bottle of wine, his thoughts running from the day he'd left to that day. As the time passed, he never entirely noticed he was just reaching for more and more wine, trying to drown out his own misery. "He gave you hope.. yet.. it was him all along.. and he lied.." he hiccupped after speaking, and just sighed, reaching for another. He was glad he wasn't human, this much alcohol probably would've put him in a coma by now, though a part of him didn't seem to mind the idea, if it made his mind stop wandering over the past.

He chugged down the eighth bottle, and reached up for a ninth, deciding that was the last for him, and headed upstairs as he drank, wandering around the house for a bit, not sure what to do. He sat down in the living room for a bit, almost tempted to go see Germany like he did whenever he was upset, but the idea also made him angry. _He lied to you, you idiot.._ he chided himself, squeezing his eyes closed.

After another ten minutes, he'd polished off the ninth bottle, and there were small tears running down his face, and he just jerked up from his seat. Fueled by the alcohol and his anger, he grabbed the car keys and headed to his car. He tore out of the driveway and sped down the mostly empty roads to Germanys home.

Germany had busied himself after leaving the Italians home by drinking also, though he had a high tolerance, so he had hardly even gotten buzzed, then tried sleeping, and shooting off his gun out the window at nothing, just trying to find a release.

He couldn't believe how much pain he'd left Italy in, and he was debating on just going to go see him again, even though he'd told him to leave, just to make sure he was alright. Why hadn't he told him sooner? Or at all? He hated himself for how he'd been, and just wiped away a traitorous tear. _You're a soldier, control yourself. _he reminded himself, and sighed just shaking his head, putting his gun away and then grabbing another beer.

Just as he was about to open it, he heard an angry knocking on the door downstairs and sighed, deciding to go see who it was. He really wasn't up for dealing with anyone though. Not Japan,, or Spain, or- Italy, who was standing at his door.


	3. Drunken Words

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia in any way!**

"Ciao bastardo!" he greeted, his eyes narrowed at the sight of him. "Pezzo di merda! Mi hai mentito bastardo!" he hissed. Something clearly was wrong, for him to be unaware he was screaming in Italian instead of English, and his words slurred slightly, along with his flushed skin and haggard apperance, as if he'd spent hours in a dusty cellar then thrown on a shirt before coming over.

Germany was absolutely taken back by the Italian slurs, though he recognized a few of the words. "Uh, Italy.." He mumbled lowly, stepping back to observe him a bit more. "You're drunk." He stated matter of factly, eying him to make sure he could stand. He noticed the car in the driveway and frowned slightly. _'He's even worse at parking drunk.. I can't let him leave.' _he thought.

"Pigliainculo!" he snapped, completely ignoring what he'd just said. _"Pigliainculo!"_

Germany scoffed, catching onto what that meant, glad he knew a bit of Italian. "I'm not spineless." He argued, his voice low in confusion. "Feliciano, come inside.." Germany grabbed the others arm when he didn't immediately enter. He then pulled him inside, and then closed and locked the door behind him as he usually did. Italy stumbled slightly at being pulled inside, just casting a glare at him, clearly irritated and off balance. He was swaying slightly on his feet where he stood, but the anger wasn't lessening any. "Bastardo.." he grumbled again. His accent and native tongue always seemed to increase and become more noticeable when he was angry or drunk.

"Drunk-o." Germany said, picking up the other country easily in his strong arms, figuring he would just let him sleep in his bed, and go lay on the couch he had in the corner of his room. "And senior you is going to sleep." He growled, face stoic. He didn't like seeing Italy in this state. And it was all his fault for not admitting sooner. Still, he knew he couldn't show any weakness, and decided to just let him wear himself out so he could get some sleep.

"Don't-a mock-a my language." he snapped, struggling against his hold briefly but eventually he just gave up, going back to looking pissed off again, too drained to really fight back against anything.

Germany scoffed at his attempts to get loose and kicked his bedroom door shut after stepping inside. "Stop being drunk-a." Germany argued back, plopping him on his bed, but not too harshly.

"You made-a me this way." he argued back, trying to sit up again, not quite ready to give up the argument. It was partially true anyway, he figured, if he'd just admitted to it sooner, they wouldn't be in this current situation.

"I made you drunk?" Germany gave one of his angry and agitated grunts. "I didn't make you drink so much wine that you're so drunk to the point you dont know the difference between English and Italian." Germany went to his closet and dug out a blanket and pillow then tossed it at him. "And you're so drunk that you will not be going home. I can't allow you to drive anymore in this condition." he stated, still caring about him and not wanting him to injure himself

"I don't-a even know why I came here, all-a seeing you does is piss-a me off." he grumbled, slipping into English, though the accent stayed strong, as did the slurring. "Pezzo di merda.." he grumbled, eying the blanket and pillow. He was tempted to accept, since he was absolutely exhausted, but the angry part didn't want to accept anything from him, believing it would imply forgiveness for his actions.

"Whatever, Italy." Germany sighed, grabbing his gun from his nightstand and walking back over to the couch, laying down. He began spinning the gun again. "I know I piss you off and all right now, but you do not want to piss _me_ off." He barked, throwing his gun in the air and catching it, slamming in the bullets and cocking it.

"Shoot-a me then." he grumbled, though he did lay down with the blanket after a moment. "Y'know-a you want to. Shut me up permanently.. Or just for a bit.. Would a gun-a kill me?" his words trailed off, and grew quieter. He knew he wouldn't of course, but he felt like anything was better than being conscious, with the anger he felt rolling through him along with memories.

"I'm not shooting you, idiot." Germany replied, laying the pistol on his chest. "I always sleep with a loaded gun. You should know that by now." The blonde re-informed matter of factly.

Italy was already starting to fall asleep, just giving a small grunt in acknowledgment, yawn, and curled up in a ball before dozing off. He seemed to go out pretty quickly once he'd gotten comfortable again, the wine, exhaustion, and days events had finally taken their toll and knocked him out. The anger drained from his expression after a moment, and was replaced by a peaceful look, though there was a hint of sadness to his face.

Germany watched Italy do this, features softening now that he wasn't getting yelled at anymore. "Goodnight, Feli.." He mumbled, shifting on the couch and pulling the blanket to his shoulders, holding the pistol to his chest. He got up after a moment and sighed, just tugging the blanket over Italy a bit more, and going to get a bucket. He knew the next morning wouldn't be particularly enjoyable for him, and knew even if the Italian protested, he'd be helping him as best as he could.

Once he was sure Italy was comfortable again, he just pushed some hair from his face, and sighed, wishing that he wasn't so angry with him. He brushed off the idea, knowing all he could do was wait, then went back over to the couch to lay down, feeling exhausted also. He pulled the blanket he'd abandoned there over hismelf, keeping the gun close to himself. It was something he always did as a form of self-security. His eyelids grew heavy after a few minutes of watching Italy sleep from where he lay, and just drifted into a dreamless sleep. 

_**Review please if you want to see more. **_

_**Translations:**_

_**Mi hai mentito bastardo - You lied to me you bastard**_

_**Pigliainculo**__**- Spineless, Weak, coward**_

_**Pezzo di merda- Piece of Shit**_


	4. Maybe

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia in any way!**

Italy woke up and found himself flipped onto his stomach and a bucket nearby. He wasn't exactly sure why for a moment, but soon he had to use it, and his eyes opening further worsened a splitting headache. As soon as he finished puking, his eyes squeezed shut and he gave a small whine, tugging the blanket over himself. "Merda.." he groaned, hating the taste that was left in his mouth from the vomit.

"About time you're up." Germany sat beside Italy at the edge of the bed. He had drawn the curtains closed and most lights were off in order to avoid causing Italy's hangover to be worse than it needed. He pushed some hair from his face and sighed, feeling bad for him, knowing he was miserable.

"My head hurts.." he groaned, just tugging the blanket tighter around himself and curled up more. "'swhat.. I get fr 9 .. wine.." he groaned, his words jumbling a bit.  
"You drank nine bottles of wine?" Germany sounded impressed but also concerned. That was not healthy. "Geez, Feli, even countries shouldn't drink like that. That's really not healthy.." he said, concern winning out.

"Lecture me later.." he groaned, trying to go back to sleep even though he knew he wouldn't be able to. "I was only trying to forget.. I'm paying for it now though.." he said and sighed  
"I'm sorry, Italy." Was all Germany said, patting the smaller nation on the back. "Just focus on getting over this hangover." Ludwig left for a moment and came back with a cool damp rag that he placed on the back of Italy's neck.

"You should be." he said, his voice raising slightly, causing him to flinch as if slapped and he groaned just hiding his head under a pillow. "Lucky you.. I can't get irritated without making this worse.." he muttered, closing his eyes and taking any relief the cold rag provided. His head felt like it was being hit repeatedly by a hard object, yet it wasn't knocking him out.

"Too bad.." Germany breathed out. "I'm going to go get you something to drink to settle your stomach and get the taste out." The country said, standing up from the side of the boy.  
Germany eventually returned with some gingerale, figuring that would help and also get rid of the taste.

He slowly sat up enough to take the drink, finishing it off pretty quickly. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked probably as bad a he felt. "Grazie.." he muttered

"No problem." Germany answered softly. He sat the glass down and crossed his arms over his chest again. If Italy wasn't a country, the hangover would have been much worse. If he even survived it.

He just laid back, closing his eyes again, since keeping them open too long hurt. "Never drinking that much again.." he said, massaging his temples for a moment.

"Good.." Germany agreed. He was surprised Italy hadn't asked him how he ended up in Germany's house in the first place. Maybe Italy just didn't want to know the answer.  
He stayed silent, curling up a bit, inwardly cursing himself for even showing up last night. Granted most things he did drunk were on a whim, so he just tried to still his mind and rest  
Germany sighed slightly. "Just tell me if you need anything.." The blond said, running a hand through his hair.

He didn't speak again, just attempting to rest more. "Just because I'm glad you're helping.. Doesn't mean I'm still not angry.."

Germany let out a small sigh, going to his couch and sitting back down. "Whatever.." He replied, looking around the room. He stood back up and closed his window from last night. Oops.

He gave a low growl at the sound, just tugging the blanket around himself tighter and burying his head under the pillow. "Really?"

"Yes, _really_." He growled back, flipping the locks. "You wouldn't have this problem if you hadn't drank nine bottles of wine." He scolded, grabbing a can of beer from under his bed. It wasn't cold, but he preferred it warm anyway. He knew he was being a bit harsh, but he was getting irritated.

He was silent again, curling up a bit more, blinking quickly. "I-I was.. Just upset.. I couldn't think of anything else.." he said, his voice holding a slight tremor that he quickly stopped by clenching his jaw. It was true anyway, he hadn't been able to think of anything else at that time to try and drown out how he'd been feeling. A small tear finally escaped and he just bit back a sob. "Whatever.." he muttered, just going back to his attempt at sleep. _'Maybe if you weren't so rude to him, he'd be nicer..' _his thoughts rang.

Germany immediately recognized the sadness dripping in the Italians voice. He felt guilt swell in his chest, kneeling down beside Italy on the floor. "Italy.." he started, feeling bad for making him upset, knowing hangovers were bad enough.

"I'm fine.." he said, just curling up a bit more. He told himself he didn't want his comfort, only to go back to sleep. He blinked back another tear, just calming himself as best he could, working on clearing his mind

Germany sighed and he wiped away the one tear that had spilled from the others eye with his thumb carefully. "No you're not.." Germany sighed.

"Si, of course I am." he reassured, tensing briefly at his touch.

Germany let out an irritated sigh at the other laying his head beside the others. He didn't know what he was suppose to do. Even from where he was, and with Italy smelling of wine and sick, he could smell his scent. It was painfully faint, but the same as it had always been.

He didn't feel up to protesting against the proximity, just letting himself drift off to sleep again. His breathing eventually evened out and his grip on the blanket grew slack

Germany just laid there, soon drifting off himself. A timid hand was placed over Italy's, blue eyes beginning to drift. He was tired, too, after all.

Germany started snoring, gravely and a bit loud, and even when he shifted his hand didn't move from Italy's.

He didn't wake up from that, just moving a bit closer, his sleeping self grateful for the comfort being close provided

Germany, in a still sleepy state and not thinking, ended up crawling on the bed. He wasn't cuddling or even very close. Just keeping their hands clasped.

Blue eyes eventually cracked open in the dim room. Eyes landed on Italy and he sighed. He reached out a hand and gently touched the others forehead to check their tempter. Germany grunted slightly, glad the fever was going down, and inches a little closer to Italy. Maybe he could just pretend to be asleep until the other stirred.

It didn't take long for Italy to slowly start to stir, and after a moment of stirring, his eyes slowly opened. He blinked to clear his vision and yawned.

Germany kept his eyes closed, hold on Italy's hand loosening. He felt so weak on the inside. He just wish he could have Italy back. Even if things never were the same.

Italy didn't move though, believing him to be asleep. He wasn't ready to act like he wanted him back yet, so he'd take the time he could without being noticed to watch him without having to keep up a front. The silence passed between them for a bit, until Germanys eyebrows furrowed slightly. "Italy, go back to sleep. You're still sick.." he murmured, blue eyes opening to meet his honey ones.

He tensed at hearing him awake and just nodded. "Alright..." he agreed, quickly closing his eyes, hoping he wouldn't notice anything. Germany let out a sigh, squeezing Italy's hand gently. He really wish he could just hold him again.

Italy felt the hand squeeze and just closed his eyes a bit tighter, careful to still look natural. Still, he couldn't bring himself to admit anything yet. Germany closed his eyes again. Maybe this could be enough for him. Just being near Italy. Even if it was never what he wanted, it would be enough. That was if Italy was willing to let them even still be friends.

"Italy..." Germany started, voice low and cautious.

"Hmm..?" he asked, his eyes staying closed.

"Do you truly hate me for lying to you for so long?" He asked, watching their hands that were together.

"'m angry.. D'nt hate.." he said, seeming half awake, so he wasn't as guarded.

Germany smiled at that, it was cute when Italy was sleepy. He always thought so. _'At least he doesn't hate me.. there may still be a chance..' _he thought, as they both fell asleep again, their hands clasped.

_**A/N: I'm really enjoying writing this, so just keep an eye out. My updates may slow for a little, as I have horse camp from 7 to 3 and a friends going to be over for that week, but I'll try, it doesn't mean I'm not writing though. I have a phone app, just copy n paste when I'm done into an email draft, copy into a word document, put the final touches and then upload~**_


	5. Frest Starts? Maybe

_Italy was walking from the trees shade, out towards the field where he sometimes waited for his lost love to return. When he started walking though, the scene changed drastically and he was looking out over a loud and bloody battlefield. There were bodies everywhere, moans of agony coming from the wounded soldiers who would lay dying for who knows how long. Pity filled him, but he didn't know quite why he was there yet. "Shh.. Shh just rest." he told one who was openly crying, though he didn't notice. He kept walking though, seeming to be searching for someone. There were still fights raging, but no one seemed to notice him often. Eventually, he came upon a particularly disturbing battle, but it took him a moment to know why. _

_The familiar black cape fluttered around one of the fighters, while a much flashier man was starting to tower over him, pushing the weakened man to the ground. 'Holy Roma..' he thought, running forward, but no one noticed. He froze identifying them, and a terrible scream ripped from his throat. It was France. France was killing him! He could only watch as the blade sank into him, then pulled out, blood dripping onto the grass. 'Mon ami.. Je suis desole.. I will tell Italia what happened. I had to do this.. My boss made me.' he said and just turned after taking his hat. _

_Italy dropped to his knees beside him, tears spilling from his eyes. "No! No you can't go! You promised.. Please.. Please.." he pleaded. The wounded boy didn't seem to see him, pulling out a crumpled picture from his jacket, a tear escaping. "Italia.. Bitte.. Forgive me.. I'm sorry.." his eyes closed, fighting to keep breathing, even though he appeared to be in severe pain, clutching the small drawing close as his breathing slowed. Italy felt his own tears racing down his cheeks, and he tried to console him somehow. "It's okay.. I'm here. Please.. Please open your eyes.." he pleaded, pushing hair from his face. "No you can't be dead.. Stay.. No.." he pleaded, the scene already fading._

Germany glanced over at him and his eyebrows furrowed together in worry, noticing a slightly stressed expression on the Italians face. "Nnn... St.." a small whimper escaped, and he curled up a bit more. Germany furrowed his eyes at the others mumbling. He sat on the bed again, huffing. "Italy." He tried rousing him again with pats to the face. "What are you dreaming about..?" He asked more to himself than the other.

His eyes shot open suddenly and he started looking around quickly for a moment. _The battlefield.. What.. Where.. Where oh.. And he's.. Safe.. We're safe.. _he reasoned with a sigh. His eyes closed again as he laid back, realizing where he was again. "Ah.. Sorry, bad dream.." he apologized quickly. "How'd you sleep?" he asked, trying to draw attention away from himself while he calmed down. It wasn't as if he'd even experienced that war, but as the years ticked, his mind managed to make everything horribly gruesome and as if he'd watched it.

"Fine.. Danke. Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, noticing how as he'd sat up, his knees were pulled against his chest He certainly didn't look like he was in good shape.

"Si.. Si of course." he reassured, forcing a smile onto his face, despite the confliction running through him. "Can.. We go eat?" he asked.

"Alright.." he agreed, though he noticed the hesitation and sighed, just walking out, deciding to give him a moment alone. As soon as Germany left the room, Italy hid his face in his hands, shaking slightly. Sure, he knew that Germany was him, and thus, alive and well, but the images hurt to remember.

_'No.. Stay please..' he cried, the blood getting on his hands as he tried to stop it, to no avail/_ he remembered, hurriedly wiping away a tear. Italy just sighed and slowly got up, feeling exhausted, but knowing he had an act to pull off. He stood in front of the mirror and forced a smile onto his face, practicing it for a minute before going downstairs.

"Guten Morgen Italy." he greeted, noticing he appeared to be in a good mood. Still, after hearing his happiness had been mostly a faÃ§ade he decided to keep an eye on him for now.

"Ciao.. Sorry about everything.. The drunk rampaging, yelling.. everything.. I'm just upset, you understand, right?" he asked. "Ja, ja I understand. I'm not asking for forgiveness, just an understanding." he assured, even though he wanted forgiveness and everything to be good between them again.

"Si.. I'll try." he said, and just looked at the food. "Smells good." he commented. "Danke." he smiled slightly, glad he wasn't getting yelled at anymore. Still, something seemed off about the little Italian. He was leaning his head in his hand, and seemed lost in his mind again. He tried to ignore it, just making some potato pancakes, eggs, and sausage.

Eventually the food was done cooking, and Germany put them onto plates , then put them down on the plate. Italy began to eat in silence, seeming a bit happier now that he was eating, a small smile on his face. The only reason he remained so silent was due to his current inability to come up with something to say. "Can we go do something today? Like a park or somewhere?"BR "Sure."

Germany agreed, a bit surprised he'd asked for them to actually spend time together. He was quick to accept though, hoping he'd be forgiven soon. BR "Grazie." he said and went back to eating. "This is good by the way." he Germany was surprised he was enjoying the food, knowing how picky he could be about what he ate. "Vell.. Thank you." he said after a moment.

Italy just nodded, hurrying to finish his food. They made some small talk, but otherwise ate in silence. They got up, and went into the kitchen to wash the dishes. BR The water quickly became soapy, and deciding to try and break some silence, Germany put some of the soapy water on his nose.

"Wh-" he was jerked from his thoughts again and just looked down to see it. He laughed and just did the same, rubbing it against his cheek. "Gotcha!" he yelled at him, laughing again and smiling. Germany laughed too and swiped his cheek back, finding it nice to hear him laughing and see him smiling again. "No, I got you!" he said back and just rubbed it on his head and face. "Fine, fine I surrender! You win." he cried, wiping his face off quickly.

"Good." he said and chuckled, wiping his own face and just put the dishes away after taking over cleaning. "Let's just walk until we decide where to go." he suggested. Italy just nodded in agreement, and headed upstairs to go change into different clothes.

He returned wearing a shirt and pants, as over the years he'd decided to just leave some clothes here with how often he was over. Germany was wearing a tank top and sweatpants, and smiled at him when he walked down, since he'd just went to the laundry room. He opened the door for them both, and just let Italy out before following. "It's a nice day." he commented.

As they walked they talked lightly about nothing and headed to a nearby park. Since it was still spring, it was pretty nice out, and flowers were blooming everywhere. The grass was growing nicely, making it soft and bright, and the trees leaves were coming in. Italy seemed pretty happy to be outside and kept looking around at everything. "I like Spring.. It seems like everything gets a fresh start."

Germany tried to subtly slide their hands together, but instead of accepting it as he had last night, Italy drew his hand back. "I.. I'm sorry, but not now." he said, looking pained briefly before slipping a composed mask into place again. Germany sighed and nodded, sticking his hands in his pocket. _Maybe.. Not everything gets a fresh start.._

_**A/N: Sorry if it sucks, I tried, and also wanted it out for a friends birthday. Reviews give me motivation and ideas are appreciated.**_


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